


Growing Pains

by UniverseInk



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian's metal spine, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseInk/pseuds/UniverseInk
Summary: Bruce is at a loss when Damian begins to withdraw from the family. Meanwhile, Damian is certain that he has the pain in his back under controlBad Things Happen Bingo: Chronic pain
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914772
Comments: 20
Kudos: 275





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> TWs: Some medical talk, mentions of past mind control
> 
> I apologize for any medical inaccuracies in this fic
> 
> Batcest shippers leave immediately or your kneecaps are forfeit

Damian lays across his bed, Alfred the cat curled up on his chest. He slowly strokes his fur, eyes closed, as the heating pad works its magic. The pain that has been omnipresent since his spinal reconstruction has begun to worsen recently. It’s nothing he can’t handle, though. He’s dealt with worse, both as Robin and as an al Ghul.

It’s nothing he sees the need to bother Richard or Father with.

Bruce isn’t sure what’s going on with Damian. The boy has begun to withdraw, spending more time in his room. When he does spend any time with the family, he’s irritable and prone to lashing out. Bruce’s first thought is that he’s backsliding, going back to that old mask of hostility and isolation that made him feel safe when vulnerability would have gotten him killed. Trauma’s a stubborn phantom, and Bruce isn’t naive enough to think that three years in Gotham is enough for his youngest to heal.

He looks over his recent case files, making note of any that he can connect to something Damian has been through. The list is depressingly long. He hates being reminded of how much his son has suffered. 

He saves the list to an encrypted file, one that he’s taken precautions to make sure Tim or Barbara would have a hard time finding. Then he calls Dick. 

Dick is staring blankly at a case file, blinking slowly. He probably needs sleep, or at least to down an energy drink so he can focus. He’s debating the merits of a mid-afternoon nap when the phone rings.

“Dick Grayson speaking,” he answers, in his best Wayne Heir voice.

“Dick,” Bruce says. “Have you noticed anything off about Damian lately?”

Dick frowns, worry winning out over his desire to snark about the lack of greeting. “I haven’t seen him much these last few weeks, I’ve been swamped with casework. I know he’s been quieter lately.” He flips his case folder closed, leaning back into the couch. “Tim says he hasn’t been picking fights, but he has kind of been snapping at him.”

Bruce hums.

“Did something happen?” Dick asks. He can’t deny the anxiety building in his chest. 

“Nothing specific, but I’ve noticed him withdrawing more.” Bruce sighs. “It feels like he’s losing some of the progress he’s made in the last few years. I think one of our recent cases may have triggered something.”

Dick closes his eyes for a moment. Thinking about Damian’s early days in Gotham always makes his chest ache. He’d been so scared of losing everything he thought was important about himself, covering up the fear with anger and arrogance. 

“You want me to talk to him?” he asks.

“Please,” Bruce says. “He’s more open with you. I don’t think he’d take it well coming from me.”

Dick hums in agreement. “I can swing by the house tomorrow, maybe stick around for patrol. I can’t guarantee he’ll talk to me, though.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Dick smiles. It’s taken years for Bruce to break through his reluctance to use that phrase, and it’s still novel to actually hear it from him. 

“You’re welcome, B.” 

They say their goodbyes and hang up. Dick shoves his case file into the locked drawer in his desk and heads to his room. If he and Damian are going to be having an emotional conversation, he needs as much sleep as he can get.

Richard has decided to make an impromptu visit to the Manor, claiming to miss spending time with the members of the family who live here. He’d swept Damian into a hug the moment he saw him, causing the muscles in his back to twinge, but no one batted an eye when he shoved him away. 

Currently, Richard is in the kitchen with Thomas. Damian isn’t sure exactly what they’re doing, he’d retreated to his room the moment Richard’s attention was diverted elsewhere. 

He carefully arranges his pillows to form a backrest against the headboard, laying the electric heating pad on them and settling in. Titus hops onto the bed, sprawling across the foot of it. Alfred also jumps up, and Damian holds up a hand to him. He sniffs at it gingerly before curling into a ball beside Titus’s stomach. 

Damian sighs and leans back into the pillows. He’d meant to grab the book off his desk before settling in, but he’s loath to get up now and rectify the situation. It’s the ninth in a series Todd has insisted he read, claiming it was a crime for him to have not read them. Drake hasn’t read them either, and Damian is determined to beat him to it. 

The books, titled A Series of Unfortunate Events, are surprisingly compelling for children’s literature. Damian sympathizes with the Baudelaire children’s predicament of being surrounded by useless adults. 

Damian has slipped into a meditative state by the time someone knocks on the door. Cracking open his eyes and scowling, he calls out.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Richard answers. “You disappeared, I wanted to hang out.”

Damian clicks his tongue. “You were occupied with Thomas.”

“Well, I’m not busy anymore. Can I come in?”

Damian huffs. He considers turning him away, but knows that Richard will only become more determined if he is denied. “You may enter,” he declares.

Richard closes the door behind him, settling on the edge of the bed. Titus lifts his head at the disturbance, earning him a scratch behind the ears. After a moment, Richard turns his attention back to Damian. 

“It feels like it’s been forever since we got to spend time together outside patrol,” he says. “How have things been?”

Damian narrows his eyes. “Things have been fine.”

“Really? Nothing interesting going on?” Richard needles.

“Kent has been pushing for me to go to school with him in the fall.” Damian makes a face. “It’s obnoxious, but he has yet to be deterred.”

“Why don’t you want to go to school?” Richard asks. “It might be nice to meet some people outside the family business.”

Damian huffs. “I have no need to associate with civilians,” he says. “And besides, I could teach any classes available for my grade level. There would be no point in me attending.”

Richard hums. “Speaking of Jon, how is he?”

Pain flares in Damian’s back, making him growl. “Would you stop pestering me?” he snaps. 

Hurts flashes across Richard’s face, nearly succeeding in making Damian feel guilty.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll leave you be.”

The door closes behind him, and Damian sinks further back into the pillows, turning the heating pad up a notch. 

Bruce is at a loss for what to do. Damian’s mood has only worsened, and Dick hasn’t been able to give him any insight except a suggestion to ask Clark if anything had happened between him and Jon. But Clark hasn’t heard anything, and apparently Jon hasn’t noticed a change.

It’s starting to affect the overall mood in the manor as well. Tim is spending more time in his apartment, and Duke has taken to leaving any room Damian enters. Something needs to be done, Bruce just has no idea what that something is.

Tonight, Dick is planning to go out on patrol with them. He’s been worried, trying not to hover around Damian and irritate him further, but unable to stay away long. 

They’re in the cave doing pre-patrol stretches when it happens.

Bruce is facing away when he hears Damian cry out. He whirls around to see him collapse to the floor, Dick already racing to his side. Bruce covers the space between them in three large steps, dropping to his knees beside Damian. He’s curled up into a ball on his side, hands clawing at the mats, panting raggedly. 

“Dami!” Dick bends over him, gently stroking his hair. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”

“Hurts,” Damian grits out between pained gasps. 

“I know, baby,” Dick says. Bruce sees his own panic mirrored in his oldest son’s eyes. “Where does it hurt?”

Damian grits his teeth, vaguely gesturing over his shoulder. 

“Your back?” Bruce asks.

Damian nods, the movement causing him to cry out again. Dick gently cradles Damian’s head in his hands. 

“Try not to move, Dami,” he says.

Bruce reaches out and carefully rests his hands on Damian’s shoulder blades. He flinches, whimpering.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce murmurs. “I know this hurts.” He gently sweeps his hands down his back, keeping his touch as light as he can. The muscles along Damian’s spine are tense and spasming. A tiny bit of the tension leaks out of Bruce’s shoulders. He can deal with this.

“It’s a muscle spasm,” he says. “Alfred—” He cranes his neck around to see Alfred already hovering by the edge of the mats.

“Shall I fetch Master Damian a heating pad?” he asks.

“Please.” Bruce turns back to Damian as Alfred rushes off.

He’s quieted down, silent tears leaking out of his scrunched-up eyes. Dick gently wipes the tears away, murmuring soft reassurances. When Alfred returns with a heat pack, Bruce carefully presses it against Damian’s back. After that, it’s just a matter of waiting.

This is ridiculous. A muscle spasm hardly warrants this much fretting, even if Damian _had_ embarrassed himself by crying. Father and Pennyworth had forced him to undergo a CT scan when he mentioned the connection between the pain and his spinal reconstruction. Now he’s bundled up in Richard’s lap, swaddled in a blanket like an infant. 

It is, admittedly, not unpleasant. But that is beside the point.

While Father and Pennyworth are busy evaluating the scans, Thomas enters the cave. Damian scowls. He does not patrol at night, he has no reason to be here to witness this humiliation. 

Thomas approaches Father at the computer. “Oracle sent out an emergency alert,” he says. “She said Damian was injured?”

“A muscle spasm in his back,” Father answers. “We’re determining the cause.”

Thomas nods. He glances at where Damian is confined to Richard’s lap on one of the couches, as if considering coming over. Damian shoots him a venomous glare to make sure that doesn’t happen. 

A few minutes later, Father settles down on the couch opposite them, holding a tablet.

“We think we’ve identified the problem,” he says. He turns the tablet around, showing the CT scan results. “Your spine is far too small in proportion to the other bones in your body.”

Damian scowls, glaring at the screen. His spine doesn’t look any smaller than it should, in his opinion. 

Father takes his silence as permission to continue. “Essentially, the rest of your body has been growing, but the metal spine Talia implanted has stayed the same. It’s putting strain on the muscles that connect your spine to the rest of your body.”

“Hang on,” Richard says. “Talia told me it would grow with him. She said there were magical elements to it.”

“She also failed to mention the mind control device she included,” Damian grumbles. The memory of his body moving without his permission, being unable to stay his hand as he swung a sword at Richard’s neck, is one he’d rather not revisit. 

“Besides,” Richard continues, “Damian’s been growing this whole time. Shouldn’t something like this have happened sooner?”

Father hums. “It’s possible something has gone wrong with the magic,” he says. “I’ll call Zatanna to come take a look.”

Damian clicks his tongue. “This is absurd,” he says. “There is no need to bring an outsider into this issue. I have been handling it fine.”

Father frowns. “You’ve _been_ handling it?” he asks. “How long has this been happening?”

“There has been minor pain since the initial operation,” Damian explains. “In the past few months it has increased in severity, but it is still within manageable range.”

Father blinks at him. “Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn?” he asks, voice tight with emotion. “You’ve been in pain this whole time?”

Damian scowls. “As I said, I can handle it.”

“I know that, Dami,” Richard says. “But we want you to be in as little pain as possible. It’s worth bringing Zatanna in so that you don’t have to hurt so much.”

Damian opens his mouth to retort, but Father cuts him off.

“There are also some major risks involved here,” he says. “Your growth being stunted, which is already likely, is the least of those risks. The human spinal cord is both essential and extremely fragile. Letting this go unchecked could leave you paralyzed again. Or worse.”

Damian huffs, burrowing further into the blanket. “Fine, I will allow Zatanna to assist you in this matter.”

“Thank you.” Father stands, bending to kiss Damian’s head before heading to the computer desk to make a call.

Tim had been on patrol when the emergency alert went out. He got delayed by a shootout between two gangs, so by the time he gets to the cave the emergency seems to have passed. 

He sits down on a bench next to Jason, Cass, and Duke, peeling off his mask. “Is the brat okay?” he asks.

“He had a muscle spasm in his back,” Duke explains. “Apparently he has a metal spine no one told me about, and it’s malfunctioning.”

“Dick thinks the problem’s magical in nature, so B called in Zatanna,” Jason adds. 

Tim glances over at the medical area, where Damian is perched on the edge of an exam table. Dick is hovering beside him, like he expects him to topple over any second. Zatanna is standing behind them, her hands spread over his back and glowing a faint gold. 

“I’m gonna go see what’s up,” Tim says, crossing to the other side of the cave. He stops a ways away, leaning against a storage cabinet. He’s close enough to hear the conversation, but hopefully not close enough for Damian to notice him.

Zatanna pulls her hands away and addresses Bruce. “It’s true that this implant was spelled to grow, but the enchantment has decayed,” she says. “Magic like this requires maintenance. At minimum it should be checked for deterioration once every six months.”

“Talia never mentioned this?” Bruce asks, turning to Dick.

“No, never.” He frowns. “I guess she didn’t think it was important, since she assumed I’d be dead soon and Damian would be back in her care.”

Bruce hums, turning back to Zatanna. “Can you fix it?”

“It’s fixable, but I can’t do it,” she answers. “You need a magic user who specializes in biointegration. If I mess it up, full-body paralysis is pretty much the best option.”

Tim winces. Damian’s an obnoxious kid, but he doesn’t want him dead.

“I can look into connecting you with someone in that field,” Zatanna continues. “I’ve heard of magic users who specialize in enchanted prosthetics working with other vigilantes, but I don’t know of any off the top of my head.”

“I can help with that,” Tim says, stepping closer. 

“When did you get here?” Dick asks. Tim ignores him, addressing Bruce.

“After Bart’s knee got blown out, he had to get the joint replaced,” he explains. “Because of the strain being a speedster would put on the implant, he had to work with a magic user who specializes in that stuff. He gave the rest of the team her number in case of an emergency.”

“And she’s trustworthy?” Bruce asks. 

“Bart trusts her, and he hasn’t had any problems.” Tim shrugs. “And I know she’s worked with other vigilantes, so you can ask around.”

Bruce nods and turns back to Zatanna. “Thank you for coming all the way out here.”

“No problem.” She shakes his hand. “I know you’ll need to thoroughly vet this woman, but this needs to get done as soon as possible.”

“I understand.” 

As Zatanna leaves, Tim opens his phone and scrolls through his contacts. “Here we go,” he says. “Amara Rahal. I’ll send you the contact.”

“Thanks, Tim,” Bruce says. “I’ll check her out.”

“I did not ask for your assistance, Drake,” Damian grumbles. He’s in full Batsulk mode, something he definitely inherited from Bruce.

Tim rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome, brat.”

It takes three days for Bruce to do all the research he needs to feel comfortable allowing Amara Rahal into the Batcave. Damian is barred from patrol for that time, and has been highly vocal in his displeasure. He’s spent the nights on the couches in Batcave, assisting Barbara on comms. Alfred also has him on a low dose of muscle relaxers and painkillers, so he rarely makes it to the end of the shift before passing out. 

Coming home from a long night to find his youngest son curled up asleep on the couch has been comforting. Not to mention adorable. Dick quietly coos over him, while Tim snaps pictures that Bruce later copies from his blackmail folder. 

On the fourth night, Bruce sends everyone but himself, Damian, and Dick out on patrol. They wear civilian clothes with domino masks, including Alfred, who leads Amara into the cave. 

She’s a young woman, maybe a few years older than Dick. She’s dressed informally, in shorts and a t-shirt. Her left leg is stark white, in contrast to the dark brown of her skin, and patterned with a glittering copper inlay. It’s clearly a prosthetic, and a high-quality one.

“Amara Rahal,” she introduces herself, shaking Bruce’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Batman.”

“Nice to meet you as well.”

“I was told I’m here for Robin?” she asks. Bruce nods.

“He’s in here.” He leads her over to the med bay, where Damian is sitting on the exam table. Dick is perched on a tall stool next to him, legs crossed.

Amara beelines for Damian, holding out her hand. “Amara Rahal, I specialize in biointegration magic, specifically for use in prosthetics.”

Damian shakes her hand. “Robin.”

“Nice to meet you.” Amara is purely professional, something Bruce appreciates. Damian doesn’t tolerate being treated like the child he is. “You’re having issues with a spinal implant, yes?”

“Correct.” Damian nods. “I was paralyzed from the waist down, and in order to restore function I underwent a spinal reconstruction. It was enchanted to grow, but the enchantment has since begun to deteriorate.”

Amara hums, turning to Bruce. “I’ll need to see any recent scans or x-rays you have.”

Dick hands her a tablet. “We did a CT scan a few days ago, that’s how we figured out the problem.”

Amara scans the tablet, frowning. She pokes at the screen, spinning and zooming in on the image. Her scowl deepens the more she looks at it. She snaps her head up, glaring at Bruce.

“His entire spine has been replaced with metal,” she says. Her voice is dark, simmering with rage. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? How could you _possibly_ justify this?”

“It wasn’t us,” Dick assures her. “None of us knew the extent of the reconstruction until afterward.”

Amara pinches the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I sincerely hope you keep whoever _did_ make that call from ever making a decision about his health again.”

“That’s the plan,” Dick mutters darkly. 

“Alright.” Amara nods, satisfied. She turns to address Damian again. “I’ll need to assess the preexisting enchantment, but I should be able to fix this. I’m going to place my hands on your back.”

Damian nods, turning to give her easier access. She places her hands over his shoulder blades, closing her eyes. A faint golden glow shimmers around them for a few seconds. After it fades, she opens her eyes.

“Yes, I can fix this. The original enchantment is very similar to what I use.” She runs her hands along Damian’s spine, muttering a spell. It doesn’t sound like anything Bruce has heard Zatanna use, the cadence reminds him of Arabic. She stops chanting and removes her hands.

“There, it will grow as fast as it safely can until it catches up to the rest of your body, then slow to match.” She pulls out a business card and hands it to Bruce. “Before I leave, we’ll need to step up times for me to check the progress every three to four days for the next month.”

“Is that much close attention necessary?” Bruce asks. 

“I have a lot of faith in my abilities, Batman,” Amara says. “But I am not so arrogant that I think I can get away without properly monitoring the situation. If there are any issues with the spine’s growth, I have to catch them as soon as possible.”

Bruce nods. “I understand. Agent A can set those up.”

Alfred appears and guides Amara away from the med bay. Bruce turns his attention back to his kids.

“How are you feeling?” he asks Damian.

“I do not feel any difference, but it is likely too early for any real changes.” Damian stretches his back gingerly. “And besides, Pennyworth has insisted I take painkillers regularly, which has masked the preexisting pain.”

“Don’t sound so grumpy,” Dick teases. “That’s a good thing.”

“I’m glad you’re not in pain, Damian.” Bruce sits next to him. “Please let me know if there is any discomfort, I want to make sure this goes as smoothly as possible.”

Damian raises an eyebrow. “I have an artificial spine growing at an accelerated rate. I believe discomfort is par for the course in this situation.”

“True,” Bruce agrees. “But it could still mean something is going wrong. I’d like to know so I can keep an eye on things.”

Damian scowls. Dick leans over and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“What he means is that he’s worried about your safety,” he explains. “He needs to know that you’ll tell him if something is off, or he’ll just keep being worried that something _is_ wrong, and he just doesn’t know.”

Damian clicks his tongue. “I suppose it would not be an undue burden to inform you of any changes.”

“Thank you.” Bruce ruffles Damian’s hair and stands up. “I’m glad you’re okay, Damian. I love you.”

A small smile flickers across Damian’s face before he schools his expression. “I love you too, Father.”

**Author's Note:**

> Amara will be returning in a later fic for this event, so stayed tuned if you wanna know more about her
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @merc--ury (main) or @transrobins (batfam/dc)
> 
> Please comment or leave a kudos if you liked this


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